[008]

[bloodsugar]

A): phone - mid-morning.

[OPEN;]

[one hazard of spending a good deal of your time lurking on the phone lines is that one might become prone to forgetting that people can HEAR you while you listen. so, it's entirely innocent, of course, when the half-absent and somewhat petulant mumble comes across the phone lines sometime this morning.]

...all this talk of Valentines Day... honestly! As if they're rubbing it in some of us are destined to be forever alone. 'Vow of celibacy'? More like vow of perpetual and ongoing boredom.

[...a pause.]

It's not like I wanted to find out what a romantic holiday with another human being is like, regardless... eh? I'm sure edible underwear isn't all it's cracked up to be, anywa--

[...]

Eh? [wait for it.]

AH--

[...there's a rather flustered squawk, and a hasty CLICK of the phone into the cradle.]

[filter to Charles Fei-Ong]

Alright, so maybe I'm a little late in checking in. You'll forgive me, right? After all, I'm sure you've been busy collecting recipes and taste testing! [no really are you okay... :| last time he saw you, after all, was... uh, colorful, to say the least.]

...I don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of tea, Charles? [he has a feeling you'll just bs him even if you weren't alright over the phone, anyway. CLEARLY HE MUST BE NOSY IN PERSON.]

[filter to Esther Blanchett]

Esther-- do you have a minute? There's... ah, something I wanted to ask you. [AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH EDIBLE UNDERWEAR HE SWEARS DEAR GOD.]

[filter to Django]

How are you holding up, partner? I hope the radio silence is because you've been gloriously enjoying the sunshine, hm? Making up for lost time and all that...! [are you okay partner? :(]

B): action; 1648 Albright Lane - lunchtime.

[there's the smell of something burning, late in the morning approaching lunchtime -- and if Rachel or Cain follows their nose, they might find the source in the form of one (1) Abel Nightroad with his drone wife's FRILLY PINK APRON several sizes too small draped around his neck and haphazardly tied back in the process of butchering... grilled cheese. yes, he is a total failure.

...somehow, he's gotten butter all over the counter and is trying to catch an overturned bottle of orange juice that is apparently spilling its contents over and onto the floor. the pan is burning and he's jostling cups and plates, trying not to drop EVERYTHING EVER as he fumbles to cease the spill of juice fruitlessly.

NO ONE SAID YOUR DAD WAS GOOD AT BEING DOMESTIC. this is why.]

C): action; around town - afternoon.

[the tall, lanky, and often times clumsy priest is among your streets today, Mayfield! anyone similarly prone to hitting up the bakery quite often might recognize his face, or simply wish to gape at the way he's leaving cheerily with a bag under his arm and so engrossed in the effort of inhaling the vanilla frosted doughnut in his hand he is clearly not paying attention to anything else. ...like the sidewalk. which, he may or may not inevitably trip over at an uneven crack and WOEFULLY lose his doubtlessly precious bounty as the bag tumbles to spill the fruits of his labor everywhere...

...and maybe his doughnut might happen to ah. misplace... itself from his hand and end up on your face. WHAT DO?]

D): action; church - evening.

[Abel's day eventually brings him to someplace to seek solace, to rest a weary soul... or something of that effect. one who enters might be hard pressed to FIND said priest who should be more or less easy to spot on the regular, right? how many 6'4 lanky bastards in cassock ARE there in here?

...but if one is apt enough, they might notice that the Father's side of the confessional is occupied. do you care to confess? ...or notice that said Father might just be lightly snoring if you listen hard enough...]

Comments

[kinship]

[It is a very good thing and a good call for Abel to not tell Cain that possibility and his resolve to do so if necessary, that would not go down well.

He can't believe he's half wishing for the simpler life back on the colony, where they at least knew they had each other and that would never change.]

...love you.

[bloodsugar]

...you shouldn't... do this to yourself.

[his voice is quiet as he tries to tilt his brother's head up, forcing his tone to be even despite the pit in his stomach.]

As much as you wish you weren't... a child, Cain... you are one. You can't swallow everything up like this... you know that, don't you? It will eat at you.

[kinship]

[He's too frightened to do otherwise, pathetically a coward underneath... he doesn't want to show vulnerability and he's scared of not being able to piece himself back together if he lets it out and it shatters him.

But after all his fierce words about the truth to Abel, he can't make himself lie and say it was all okay. So he just stays silent, face buried in Abel's chest as though he could pretend he hadn't heard him.]

[bloodsugar]

[same person, down to the last strand of DNA -- same base fears and anxieties and faults, is that it? cowardice... just another string that binds them.

Abel doesn't know what to do with the silence -- he doesn't know if he's being denied, or outright ignored, if Cain is still angry... so he falls silent, letting him draw whatever comfort he can garner from being held if that's what he needs... :(]

[kinship]

[He wants to scream and bite and kick and rage, understanding why Abel had done all those things now, but he won't. His fingers just tighten painfully rigid in Abel's clothes, nose smushed firmly into his chest.

What does he do, Abel? Tell him where to go from here. Tell him again it's all going to be okay and he's doing the right thing, your validation is all he needs to paste on a smile again.]

[bloodsugar]

[it's not coming this time. his words haven't seemed particularly effective, have they? he's making matters worse, rather than better. that's the last thing he wants...

the silence is deafening but he's too afraid to fill it.]

[kinship]

[All he can hear in the silence is his own heartbeat in his ears, hard and almost painful. Brother, why... did it have to turn out this way?]

Abel...

[bloodsugar]

[he shifts a tiny bit, acknowledging he's listening... Cain, you need to talk, don't you? you need to, or it won't get better.]

[kinship]

[He doesn't know what to say... and if he did he'd be too pathetically afraid to say it.]

I don't--

[Know what to say, what to do.]

[bloodsugar]

Don't what...?

[anything is better than nothing. nothing is clearly not helping you, and... he doesn't know how to help you either, brother. he really and truly wants to :(]

[kinship]

--know what will happen.

[It comes out small, in a voice that sounds constricted. And it's the truth of why he can't let it all out, he's so scared of not knowing what will happen afterwards. Will he be able to piece himself together again? Will he do something stupid like scream at Abel or run away?]

[bloodsugar]

[his expression softens further... and he leans forward to press his lips to his brother's forward firmly, before murmuring quietly against his skin.]

You do.

[he brushes his hair back, drawing away just enough to look down into his face with a small smile.]

I'll be right here with you. No matter what, that's what will happen.

[kinship]

[Ah, Abel.

He looks up and finally meets his eyes with an expression somewhere between pleading and hunted, he doesn't want to let it out and yet he knows he has to sooner or later.

He just... doesn't know where to begin, can't make those words unstick from his throat.]

[bloodsugar]

...Don't... think, Cain. Just start talking, okay...? Whatever comes first, just... let it go.

[his brother has been suffocating it all, suffocating and burying it away... and maybe it's been his failure as his guardian for not noticing how deep a hole he'd dug himself. but he had to stop it... now, before it was too late.]

[kinship]

[Start talking... that was the hard bit, surely Abel of all people could relate to this. When it comes to their fears and insecurities, they prefer to bury them instead of being vulnerable.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing coming out but air. Eyes fixed on his brother's, still identical to his own no matter what else has changed, it's the hope and hurt in them that make him finally start talking.]

I'm really... really scared. I don't want to lose you, but things here are... what if you die again and I can't help you? You're such an... idiot! You're going to throw yourself into danger and I won't be able to help and I'll lose you. I can't lose you...

[bloodsugar]

[...Cain...

still... afraid of him... dying? of losing him...

Abel pulls his brother into a tighter hug, tucking him under his chin. his heart is tight, panging sharply at the echo of Cain's pain.]

...You won't lose me. You won't. I won't let that happen. [it's why he'd gone to the post office, why he'd taken the risks -- he knew it would be worth it to give him peace of mind, but... it seemed that it still wasn't enough. would it take seeing it firsthand for him to absorb it...? no, he prayed that wasn't the case. he never wants him to see -that,- nevermind for it to be necessary.]

I told you, didn't I? I'm right here with you. No matter what... I will be right here with you.

[kinship]

You said that before Thanksgiving, you said that before... last time, you keep saying it and you can't... make it true.

[It's not Abel's fault, he doesn't mean to blame him. But this town likes to make a mockery of his promises. How does he know Cain won't be taken away again in the night, or that Crusnik won't be nullified leaving him just as vulnerable to death as before?]

[bloodsugar]

...

[there is no counter, really -- there is no reassurances that he could make; all his promises end up lies and he knows it, yet he keeps making them anyway.]

But, we're... still here. [it's quiet.] After it all, we're... still here, together.

[kinship]

[He shakes his head jerkily, voice a little thicker and huskier. He trusts Abel, always will, but he can't trust this town one bit.]

You keep... we both keep getting hurt and... I can't sleep right, I'm so scared.

[All the time, head full of things that had happened to them both and worrying over things that might happen.]

[bloodsugar]

[he pulls Cain tighter still, ducking his head and tense with a protective, possessive rigidity. it kills him that he's right, and it kills him even more there isn't a single fucking thing he can do about it.]

...It's okay to be scared.

[kinship]

[Not this scared, not all the time. It's exhausting and harrowing, he doesn't want to feel like he's jumping at shadows.]

...I'm always scared when you're not here now.

[When they're not together, when he doesn't know if Abel is safe or not.]

[bloodsugar]

[he says it's different... that they're different, but doesn't this only serve to prove how much they are still the same?

Abel could say the very same in return with whole-heartedness...]

...You have to have faith in me.

[he can't say he won't be hurt or taken or... killed -- but he can say that he will always return.]

[kinship]

I do, it's...

[Them. He doesn't have faith in this town at all.]

Please... please don't leave me.

[bloodsugar]

Have more faith in my desire to come back to your side, no matter the cost to them or anyone else... than you do in them stopping me.

[he tilts Cain's chin up again, and his eyes are firm in this. if his little brother's arrogance stretched to his own intelligence, Abel's was his own endurance. a near millennium of being unable to die, of always 'coming back,' even... here, without Crusnik -- has blinded him to that inevitability.]

Nothing will ever keep me from coming back to you. Not... ever.

[kinship]

[That's exactly what he needed to hear. It doesn't diminish the fear at all, but it does ease his heart a bit. That sounds like his brother, and... how could he doubt that?

There's gratitude in his eyes as he throws his arms around Abel again, just holding him as tight and as best he can.]